


Year 1

by aviandemiwitch03



Series: Hogwarts Mystery, tweaked [1]
Category: Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: Developing Friendships, First year at Hogwarts, Gen, mentions of Charlie Weasley - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:42:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25966045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aviandemiwitch03/pseuds/aviandemiwitch03
Summary: An expanded take on Hogwarts Mystery though my character's eyes, and making it work a little better. This is first year...
Relationships: Ben Copper & Player Character (Hogwarts Mystery), Penny Haywood & Player Character, Rowan Khanna & Player Character
Series: Hogwarts Mystery, tweaked [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884679
Kudos: 1





	1. Diagon Alley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My take on Hogwarts Mystery. Starting from the beginning...  
> Disclaimer: Only the Marcovitz clan is mine.

_Diagon Alley, May 1984_

_Ellie's pov_

This was not the first time I’d been in Diagon Alley on my own.

It was, however, the first time mum and dad had left me at the entrance, before rushing off to the Ministry for some important business regarding the both of them. They’d left the twins at home with the next door neighbour’s daughter.

Not cool.

I still wasn’t sure why I had to do this on my own, now. Mum worked in this area, I’ve been with her plenty. I even got the letter in March, and I remembered another lady coming into Flourish and Blotts, looking for the used textbooks section for one of her sons.

So why now?

It wasn’t helped by the fact Tom the barkeeper had to tap the bricks for me, not that he hadn’t done it for me before, the times mum let me visit the bookstore next door. Not to mention how awkward I felt going into Diagon Alley in my muggle clothes. I tugged awkwardly at my shirt, hoping nobody asked where my robes were.

“Thanks Tom,” I mumbled.

“Now ye stay outta trouble, yes?”

“Yes sir,” I mumbled. I had no plans for mischief today. Just books and my wand. And…

“Hello!” The enthusiasm of the voice startled me from my thoughts, and brought my attention to a skinny, Indian girl who was standing next to the entrance to Ollivander’s wand shop. “I’m Rowan! Hogwarts shopping too?”

There was something about her that was curious. She seemed like the only other Hogwarts age student to be here without either of her parents. Her enthusiasm also seemed infectious, so I approached, if not a little warily.

“Yeah, I am. Always forget how huge it feels without mum or someone else.”

“Well,” Rowan’s face could only be pensive. “You could start at Flourish and Blotts, and getting your textbooks there.”

That was a good point.

“Good point. Start at Flourish and Blotts.” I said, and Rowan beamed. “At least I know someone there.” And I figured mum had already set them aside for me to find, so I was free to browse. It didn’t hurt that I had a few galleons extra as well.

Books found, along with a couple others, I thanked Madam Villanelle for her help, and went back to where Rowan was waiting next to Ollivander’s.

She looked sheepish.

“I forgot to ask before you left, but what’s your name?”

“Ellie Marcovitz.” I said, and watched her face for when the connection was made. Mum had been more than angry when the article had appeared in _the Daily Prophet_.

Dad had been almost as angry about it than mum, but he was also very disappointed with Jacob. I waited.

There _wasn’t_ an immediate connection made.

“Nice to meet you!” Maybe I really _could_ be friends with her. “You excited?”

“Some. Beats a muggle school, yes?” Honestly, I hadn’t stopped staring at the acceptance letter since March.

“I haven’t stopped looking at my letter since February!’ _Did she read minds?_ I asked myself. “Could I see yours?” I handed mine over from where I kept it in my purse.

We traded letters, though the only obvious difference were the names. I handed hers back.

“I have a question,” Rowan continued, handing mine back and returning hers to the pocket of her robes. “My mum gave me a few extra galleons to spend on something special, something that says, ‘serious intellectual, on her way to becoming Head Girl.’” She paused before continuing, “What should I get? A smart scarf, a serious sweater, or a fun hat?”

I contemplated that for a moment. Clearly, for whatever reason, she trusted me a great deal with that question. “A smart scarf, I think.”

She seemed delighted by that choice, though it seemed that she could’ve been delighted by any of the choices. “I have a lot of scarves, but none of them are smart! And they make anyone look scholarly.”

“While I get my scarf,” she continued and there was a cheeky twinkle in her eye, “You should get your wand from Ollivander’s.” I gulped.

The storefront felt huge and imposing. I had been both eager and dreading this moment. I had also hoped mum was going to be with me. I nodded, and Rowan, assuming I’d be fine, left to go grab the scarf at Gladrags, and I walked in.

It was dark in the shop. Dust floated in the light coming in from the outside, and there seemed to be an air of Old magic lingering in the shop. I could almost _feel_ the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. “Hello?”

“Ah,” came a wispy voice from the direction of the counter. “You must be Ellie Marcovitz. I am Garrick Ollivander.”

“Mr. Ollivander,” I inclined my head, and approached the counter.

“I have a selection of wands chosen to see who chooses you. But first,” he held up what looked like a simple tape measure. “Up on the stool, please.”

A flick of the tape measure he started with what seemed like a few standard questions. “Which is your wand hand?”

I paused, thinking for half a minute. “Erm, right hand…”I replied, holding up the hand in question.

Measurements started, as he turned to rambling on my family’s wands.

“Your family is interesting, no two wands alike, spanning back to your great-grandmother. Your mother’s wand, Cedar, 11.5”, originally seemed odd, but now certainly seems to suit her, while your father favours a Fir wand, roughly 13” and supple, apt for his hands on approach to both work and life.” He paused, before continuing, “Your brother, he had a Maple wand, 10”, a bit smaller compared to your parents’ wands. Wand cores, on the other hand, are much more straightforward. Both your father and mother wands contain a core of Unicorn hair. Your brother, on the other hand… aha.”

In the time to talk about family wand history, he had moved from the stool, back over to the shelves, and the tape measure was measuring on its own.

Currently, it was measuring the size of my right ear.

“That’s enough,” he said sternly, and the tape measure dropped to the floor of the shop with a papery fwap. He climbed down the ladder, expertly carrying the thin wand box. He set it off to the side, then started unboxing several of the others. “Here,” he picked up the wand, one stained lighter than cherrywood. “Applewood, dragon heartstring, 9”, rigid,” Ollivander expertly reeled off. “Give it a wave…”

Taking it, I gave it an experimental twirl, before… a few half-hearted sparks, followed by a mini tornado appearing, whipping some abandoned parchment off the desk. “Sorry…”

“Nothing to sorry about, child. The wand chooses the wizard, that just happens to not be the wand for you. Your brother ended up exploding my inkpot with his first one.”

At least it hadn’t been that bad.

“Your brother ended up with a similar core of dragon heartstring. Maple wood, 10”, as I mentioned earlier. A fine wand.”

I was a little speechless. “How -?”

“I remember every wand I’ve sold, Miss Marcovitz, and I expect nothing less of yours as well. Hmmm…” He looked at the wands in front of him. “It was a shame when it was snapped when he was expelled.” I nodded in agreement, not sure where this was going.

“He ran away the summer before last.” I shrugged. “It was a bit of a disaster, really.”

“I wonder…” he said, cryptically. “How that might’ve impacted _you_?”

I paused, contemplating what my options were.

“I- ’’ I started, choosing my words carefully. “I felt bad for him. He loved going to Hogwarts, and he loved our family, but this only seems to have torn our family apart in the process.”

Ollivander’s expression betrayed nothing of his thoughts. “Hmmm…”

All three were interesting wands, though I felt uneasy about the Blackthorn wand, as it made me nervous, as did the one that looked like Hornbeam. Only the one still in the box, unopened, intrigued me.

It was also the one he opened.

“Acacia wood, 12” with a unicorn hair core, pliable,” he examined the wand, displaying it with both hands. “I feel it has waited awhile to meet you. I know your mother tried this exact one, before going with the Cedar. Give it a twirl.”

Now that surprised me even more. I took the wand, feeling warmth bloom beneath my fingers at picking it up. I gave a similar twirl, and what almost seemed like fireworks erupted from the tip. Mr. Ollivander was gleeful at the sight.

“How splendid!” he cheered. “I am very interested in where you go and what you do.”

I payed the 10 galleons for it, with Mr. Ollivander bowing me out of the shop. “Keep good care of it.” Had been his parting message, but he seemed more pleasant than before.

I walked out, and found Rowan waiting again, this time scarf wrapped around her shoulders.

“Hey, Ellie!” she cheered, spotting me as I emerged. “How do you like my scarf?!” I wasn’t sure exactly what to say, without being rude.

“I-it suit you… you’ll look like the smartest first year at Hogwarts, for sure.” Honestly, the thing was hideous, like knitting practice gone awry, but I suspected she hadn’t been given much to work with in the first place.

“It was your suggestion!” she exclaimed. She wasn’t wrong there. “I’ll be coming to you for fashion advice from now on!” I really hoped that wouldn’t be the case, but I hoped there would be more to work with next time. She caught sight of my wand.

“Is that an Acacia wand?!” I was a little surprised at how quick she’d picked up on that.

“Yeah, it is. Why?” I was a little worried now.

“My family runs a tree farm, just north of here! We grow woods for wands and broomsticks. Reading allows me to stay inside and avoid farming.” So, a kindred spirit, at least. “And I don’t exactly have any friends…”

Very much a kindred spirit.

“We can be friends. I don’t have any friends either."

She looked sceptical, as if she couldn’t fully believe I’d be her friend. I shared a similar feeling.

“You don’t think I’m too weird? Most people usually think I’m too weird, preferring to stay in and read.”

“No, Rowan, people say the exact same thing about me, too. We can be weird together.” I was really starting to like her as a friend. Not many people were willing to talk to me this long.

She seemed to agree, but there was still some scepticism. “But why would anyone say that about you?” I sighed. _Time to bring out the tragic backstory about my brother…_

“Because my older brother is Jacob Marcovitz.”

And on went the lightbulb.

“The _same_ Jacob Marcovitz who broke school rules and was expelled for searching for the legendary Cursed Vaults?!”

“The very same.”

“That was a massive news story in _the Daily Prophet_ , so everyone at school will know about it.”

“Yep. Mum was briefly considering not letting me go to Hogwarts, and maybe go to Ilvermorny or Beauxbatons instead. But dad talked her ‘round to the idea.” I sighed. “And everyone will think I’m weird, because of it. And who my brother was.” I sighed, regretting bringing it up.

Rowan took a more optimistic approach. “We’ll be weird together!” That did make me feel a little better. “What should I do, should someone gives you trouble about your brother?”

She seemed ernest, and I appreciated that.

“Follow my lead,” I replied, after giving it a minute’s thought. “I can stand up for myself, but I’d definitely feel better if you were on my side in all of this.” I added.

“I’ll use my extensive vocabulary to verbally pummel anyone who tries to insult your reputation!” Rowan replied, her voice fierce. I smiled. It was nice having someone who decided on their own to stand by your side.

“I’m glad we’ve met, Rowan,” I smiled, properly. “Honestly didn’t expect to make a friend today. It’ll be nice to finally see a friendly face going to school. And especially a friend that sees to know so much about Hogwarts.”

“Me too!!” Rowan seemed particularly enthusiastic now. I heard footsteps heading this way and recognising them as mum. I raised a hand in her direction, as I wheeled around. “See you September 1st!!” Rowan called as I headed back towards the Leaky Cauldron.

“You too!!” I called back, waving wildly in return.

The rest of the summer passed quickly. The rest of my school supplies were collected, and I was particularly enthusiastic about picking out a book bag, along with finding a particularly unique ink for writing during my classes. The expected potions ingredients, not so much.

I also spent most of the summer flipping through my school books, particularly enjoying _Fantastic Beasts_ (despite the fact that it was a staple in any wizarding household), and my Charms and Transfiguration books. Potions had been flipped through, though neither mum nor dad knew the current potions teacher, since Slughorn had retired a few years back, and that’s who they’d had.


	2. Arrival at Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arriving at Hogsmeade station from Platform 9 3/4 in London... Chapter 2!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part 1 of three. I prefer the canon arrival of the first years, so I expanded.  
> It decided to go to three parts. Part of this is taken from my own life.  
> Disclaimer: I only own the Marcovitz clan, and the ankle injury.

_1 September 1984_

The 1st of September dawned chilly, though it definitely warmed quickly. I was glad I’d decided to hold off on putting on my robes until we got closer to Scotland.

There were some murmurs on the platform, but those had been easy enough to ignore. It didn't help that I had crutches and was recovering from a sprained ankle.

But we'd arrived early enough.

I was lucky mum was so good with _Ferula_ , but it had been bad enough I had to visit the closest podiatrist specialist, which happened to be on the outskirts of London.

The first few weeks would be hell, unless the school healer would be able to work her magic.

With mum and dad's help, we found a spot and loaded my trunk. I was just tall enough to stretch out and rest my ankle on the seat across from where I was sitting.

Thankfully, it was facing the platform, so I could watch for Rowan.

She arrived, fifteen minutes before the train was due to leave, trailed by two serious looking parents. Elegant, yet practical looking robes, designed to look like looser fitting Indian clothes, in darker colours, along with severe haircuts that seemed to sharply contrast Rowan's longer hair.

I half expected a few more siblings to follow behind them, but I shrugged, figuring it would possibly come up later.

I waved wildly through the window, and she waved back just as excitedly. I watched as she approached the train, before getting on. 

She quickly found the right compartment, before leveraged her trunk into the rack. She darted out to grab her owl, and wave goodbye to her parents. My owl was chilling under its cover, and I waved as the train pulled from the station. Mum and dad waved, as the train slipped out of the station.

I even caught a glimpse of what seemed like a small army of red headed children running after the train, before it picked up speed and we were rushing north. 

Rowan came back into the compartment, practically bouncing with excitement, and I noted for the first time, that she was already wearing her Hogwarts robes.

"Hey," I said, as she came back in, clutching an owl cage, covered in what looked like a cotton silk blend. She stowed her owl next to her trunk, before settling down in the seat next to my injured leg.

“What happened?” Rowan almost demanded, as if we’d been lifelong friends.

“Hello to you too.” I muttered, pulling myself upright. I was glad to not be sitting in a skirt. “Accident. While outside.” That was the only way I could explain it, without more confused looks. While mum didn’t allow us to have brooms, muggle area and all, we were allowed bikes, and they were almost as good.

We descended into a flurry of chatter, catching up on the past few months, and sharing our home lives. The chatting descended into a quiet lull, with Rowan pulling out Hogwarts: A History from her bag, and me staring at the passing countryside, before deciding it was time to get my uniform on.

Thankfully, Rowan was willing to wait the fifteen minutes to let me get halfway decent, before asking if she could come back in. I allowed her back in, having gotten the basics of the uniform on, mainly the shirt, skirt and socks. I’d had dad tie the basic black tie the night before, not wanting to try and mess with it on the train. And, despite our best efforts, the Mary Jane shoes still pinched the back of my feet.

I also pulled a book at this time, one of the novels I liked, that I had snuck into my trunk without mum noticing (hopefully). We spent a large portion of the rest of the train ride noses in books.

It wasn’t until the speaker crackled on that we emerged back, and scrambled everything together.

“ _We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately_.”

There was a brief period of panic, before we collected our loose candy into our pockets at the announcement, before returning our books to our trunks, along with cursing under my breath at the amount of pain I was currently in.

The parents had informed me of a few details of what the sorting would be like, so I had an idea, and the boat ride to the castle sounded nice.

The train pulled up to the station, and everyone got off. We’d barely joined the throng before the exodus on to the platform started. I was fervently glad we weren’t required to add our trunks and animals to the chaos.

We slipped out onto the platform between a couple older students, shivering as we entered the cool air. We caught sight of the sight of a lantern bobbing towards the station and the sight of a large, bearded man approaching the platform.

“Firs’ years!” He boomed, as he and the lantern approached, which also allowed me to get a better look. This must be Hagrid, the gameskeeper for the school. “Firs’ years over here!” Me and Rowan made our way over to where other first years were heading as well.

“C’mon, follow me — any more firs’ years?” I could see his dark eyes flickering in the swinging lantern light, as he double checked everyone being there. “Mind yer step now! Firs’ years follow me.” Hagrid started off, and the group of us followed him.

Off the platform, there was a break in the surrounding plants, revealing a narrow path which led to the edge of the lake in front of them. I hesitated, which caught the attention of Hagrid and the others.

“D’yeh need some help?” he asked, and I nodded faintly.

“Un-huh.” He picked me up, even if it wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable of ways, and continued forward. I was carrying my crutches, with Rowan and everyone not far behind.

It was quiet, most everyone focusing on not falling until,

“Yeh’ll get yer firs’ sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec,” Hagrid called, as we neared a turn in the bend. “Jus’ round this bend here!” I shifted a crutch in anticipation. The sight did not disappoint.

A chorus of “Ooooh!”s came from behind as the path opened to lake’s edge and everyone got a good look. 

“Wow,” I murmured to myself. It was, no pun, a magical sight, to say the least. I felt a shift as Hagrid slowly set me down.

“Here yeh go,” he said cheerfully, setting me down in one of the small boats just on the shore, before giving a little nudge. “No more’n four to a boat!” Hagrid called to the rest of the first years, who all clambered into the rest. “Everyone in?” Hagrid asked from the large boat further ahead. There were nods all around. “Right then — FORWARD!”

Rowan had joined mine, and we were joined by a blond, nervous looking boy who gripped the edges of the boat the entire ride over. It was a touch choppy, but not horrible. It sapped a little of the fun from it (he seemed too scared to be in awe of the castle), but me and Rowan enjoyed it none the less. 

“Heads down!” yelled Hagrid, as the group approached the cliff. We all ducked as the boats continued under a sheet of ivy and into an obscured opening. We floated down a tunnel, before arriving out at a boatshed.

We clambered out of the boats, and I managed to get myself out with my crutches. I could feel the stares of the other first years as I made my way up to the front doors, lagging a little behind and the noise my crutches were making. 

Hagrid gave three, booming knocks as everyone reached the area in front of the doors. A woman who could only be Professor McGonagall opened the door, looking as severe as my parents described.

“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid a touch cheerfully.


	3. Sorting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone gets their houses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of four. Parts are borrowed from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone/Philosopher's Stone chapter 7. The sorting is a meld between book and movie. Song is my own. This maybe the longest of the four.

“Thank you, Hagrid,” replied Professor McGonagall, her voice stern. “I will take them from here.” She pulled the doors open, revealing the Entrance Hall, and allowing everyone inside. 

I leaned on Rowan some as McGonagall led us across the Entrance Hall, and I tried to take in as much as I could. Great flaming torches lit the hall, flickering off the grand marble staircase, along with what looked like where house points were displayed.

Also lots and lots of paintings, even at the eye level of an eleven year old. I didn’t even try looking up, as I didn’t want to trip over my crutches.

We were all led to a small antechamber, where we all squeezed in, and I had a feeling McGonagall was gearing up for a speech.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” McGonagall started. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall,” she paused briefly, then continued, “you will be sorted into your Houses.” There were brief, but excited, murmurs.

McGonagall continued, quieting the murmurs.

“The Sorting is very important ceremony, because while you are here, your house will become something like your family here at Hogwarts.” There was pause, as if she was letting it sink in.

“You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.

“The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.” There was a brief, but dramatic pause. “Each House has its own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards through the ages. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you points, while any rule breaking will lose you house points.”

She gave a stern look to the group, and continued.

“At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, which is a great honour. I hope each of you will be a great credit to whichever House becomes yours.” I could almost eke out what might’ve been a hint of a smile on the Deputy Headmisstress’s face, before it vanished.

“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes, in front of the rest of the school. I suggest that you should all smarten yourselves as you can, while you are waiting.” 

There was a pause near the end of the sentence, as if she was inspecting the class in front of her. It almost reminded me of the military inspections during the summer months. “I shall return when we are ready for you.” Her tone was clearly no nonsense. “Please wait quietly for my return.”

She left the antechamber.

I felt like puking. Sorting, in front of the _entire school_?!?

Sure, mum and dad had given the basics, but my mind was both blank on the details _and_ racing. This was almost as bad as being at primary, and no one wanting to pick you during gym. Rowan was muttering to herself, what almost sounded like trees and what they were used for in the wizarding world.

Then came the ghosts, and the cries of shock. Roughly two dozen of them. Pearly white, and glowing slightly in the dim light of the antechamber, they barely noticed the crowd of first years they were passing over.

One looked like a Friar, another looked like he belonged to an Old King’s court. I could kind of make out some others, but most of them seemed to be moving quickly, chatting amongst themselves.

Two, the friar and the Old King’s court one, were ‘standing’ near the door, in mid-argument over someone or something dubbed ‘Peeves,’ and a penchant for trouble.

I filed the tidbit away, and the friar ghost noticed us firsties.

“Ah, hello,” he said, what voice he had cheerful. “I presume new students? About to be sorted?” A few of the group nodded, though no one answered verbally. “I hope to see at least a few of you in Hufflepuff!” The Friar continued. “My old house!”

I caught the sound of the door opening.

“Move along, now,” That would be McGonagall back. “The sorting ceremony is about to begin.” I glanced at my watch. I guessed maybe ten minutes had passed. The ghosts floated through the walls, probably into the Great Hall.

McGonagall faced us.

“Now, she started. “Form a single line, and follow me.”

I wobbled dangerously as I moved behind Rowan, and in front of a boy with the same shocking red hair as the four kids I’d seen running after the train on the platform. The blond haired boy who ha been in the boat with me and Rowan was in front of her. 

McGonagall led us all out of the room, and back across the Entrance Hall, except now they were heading for the grander looking set of double doors.

Oh gods, this was nerve racking.

So this was the Great Hall.

Mum and dad’s stories hardly did it justice, even as my mind continued to race. The line clustered at the front, the head table looming. The stained glass behind the head table was nice, especially in the candlelight of the several dozen currently floating above us. 

Rowan, even having read  _ Hogwarts: A History _ , seemed to be in awe of the room. I leaned on Rowan as everyone moved closer. 

The sound of McGonagall setting a four legged stool down, grabbed everyone’s attention. She then set down a worn and patched hat, brown in colour. I looked a lot like the ones up in grandmother’s house in the lake district, up near Keswick.

I wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it.

It twitched, before a growing rip appeared, and it began to  _ sing _ .

“Oh,  _ A Thousand years ago _

_ When I was fresh and new, _

_ The founders created anew _

_ This here wizarding school! _

_ Proud Gryffindor, of wild moor, _

_ Taught the brave of heart to Roar _

_ And everything he knew _

_ Smart Ravenclaw of glen, _

_ Taught the bright of mind _

_ To soar above the rest _

_ Bold Slytherin of fen, _

_ He took the shrewd _

_ And taught what they must do _

_ Warm Hufflepuff of valley broad, _

_ She took the rest, _

_ And made them her best _

_ Now its up to me _

_ To see where all will sit _

_ So put me in trusting hands _

_ (for here I have none) _

_ And let me see  _

_ Where you may be _

_ For I am the Sorting Hat! _ ”

The hall seemed to burst with applause at the conclusion of the song. The hat seemed to bow in the direction of the four tables, before becoming still again.

McGonagall now stepped forward, clutching a scroll of parchment. I couldn’t tell how long it was, but it had to be lengthy.

“When I call your name,” McGonagall started and I gulped. She was holding the hat by the peak of the top. “You will put on the hat, and sit on the stool to be sorted into your house.”

The scroll opened, and dropped to the floor. McGonagall started from the top.

“Ali, Badeea!” A small girl, of what looked to be Pakistani origin, emerged from the group. Hat dropped over head and hijab, it called out,

“RAVENCLAW!”

The table to the left of the group cheered, and she gladly joined the table to watch. 

I really didn’t feel great, not helped by the pain in my leg. I tuned out a few names, ‘Caplan, Diego,’ jumping, along with the cheers from the Hufflepuffs, followed not long after by ‘Copper, Benjamin’ and the terrified blond boy emerging from the group. 

Surprisingly, he went into Gryffindor.

I tuned out names again, until ‘Egwu, Andre’ was called. A confident black boy stepped up, getting Ravenclaw. “Haywood, Penny,” was the next name that stood out, going to Hufflepuff. She took a seat on the bench next to the group.

Said group was starting to thin, with a good handful of students left. J slipped into K, meaning Rowan and another kid, both Gryffindor, though it seemed the hat stalled with Rowan for a couple minutes, before deciding. “Kim, Jae,” had barely sat down when Gryffindor was called for him.

I was now just barely leaning on the redhead who had been behind me in the line in. A few more names, then, “ Lee, Barnaby,” and “Lobosca, Chiara,” became, respectively, Slytherin and Hufflepuff. I stuck a hand out the redhead, figuring I should at least introduce myself if I was going to lean on him any longer. But before I could open my mouth,

“Marcovitz, Eleanor!” McGonagall called, and I groaned to myself, before limping up to the stool. I hated my full first name.

I carefully took a seat, and the hat dropped just over my eyes. The darkness was as unnerving as the unsteady stool I was sitting on.

_ Hmmm… _ came a bodiless voice in my ear.  _ Very interesting. I’ve not seen a mind quite like this one in a long time _ . There was the unusual feeling of something just grazing what seemed like the top of my mind.  _ And what house would you prefer? _

_ Not Slytherin, _ I snarked.  _ Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw. Or even Hufflepuff. _

_ I only see one working in your advantage. _ Came the hat, before shouting, “Best be… GRYFFINDOR!”

I almost toppled off the stool then and there. Thankfully, I managed to keep my wits. I limped my way over to the cheering table, taking the spot at the end of the bench, next to Rowan. I wasn’t super fond of being so close to the teachers, but, for now, this was it.

There were a handful of students left, including the redhead, and a girl with shocking pink hair and a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Tonks, Ny-” the girl with the pink hair headed up to the stool at the sound of her last name, cutting McGonagall off at what sounded like her first, with a disgusted look. “Hufflepuff!” earned a smirk.

“Tuttle, Liz,” went into Slytherin, which was interesting, considering she seemed nicer than most of them.

“Weasley, Charlie” also ended up in Gryffindor, with a roar of cheering, and leading me to finally recognise the Weasley red hair colour, and an introduction. There was a more formal greeting once he sat down.

“Winger, Talbott,” ended up in Ravenclaw, and McGonagall rolled the parchment scroll up, before moving the stool and the hat, and Winger joined his table.

Dumbledore took to his podium, as McGonagall took her seat. He seemed to beam in the candlelight, grabbing everyone’s attention.


	4. Feast & Common Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorting done, now to eat, along with announcements.  
> Arrival at the common room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The parts missing in the game, and a couple modified.  
> I only own Ellie

“Welcome, to a new year at Hogwarts.” His eyes seemed to be twinkling in the candlelight. “I have just one word for now: Enjoy.”

And with that, mounds of food seemed to appear from thin air, and onto the long tables. It was a wide selection of dishes, and not just typically British, but nothing immediately recognisable. I took a few of my favourites and settled into eat.

There was chatter abounding at the table, and me and Rowan chatted quietly over our plates. I caught snippets of other conversations, but all I seemed to hear about were murmurs about me, even at the Hufflepuff table.

“Is tha-?”

“Nah, it couldn’t be…”

I could also feel the judging looks at my braid, which had been done this morning by mum, and I was hesitant to take it out so quickly. And it wasn’t nearly as intricate as some braids I’d seen in London.

I shrugged them off, for what would be the first time while at Hogwarts. The weather was also uncomfortably warm, and the style I currently sported was in deference to the heat. 

I noted the ghost I saw earlier was floating along the table, looking mournfully at some of the offerings, and talking with some of the students.

“Hey, I recognise you!” piped up Charlie, halfway through what previously looked like a decently sized pie of some sort. “You’re Nearly Headless Nick!”

“ _Nearly_ headless?” someone asked. Nick looked irritated. Several others looked curious as well. Ben paled. 

“Like this.” Nick replied, voice delicate, before _dropping his head to the side_.

Ben turned green. I blanched, before going a little green myself at the sight. Rowan took on an expression of polite disgust. Nick casually flipped his head back before turning the conversation elsewhere. The remnants of dinner faded as desserts appeared, and I reached for a slice of cake. It felt like that kind of night.

As the remnants of dessert faded, Dumbledore took to his podium again. 

“Welcome, welcome, to another year at Hogwarts!” He glanced around the room, taking in the attentive faces. “The past few years have seen a great weight lifted from our world.” There was a brief pause. “The boy-who-lived, Harry Potter, is safe. A few years from now, young Harry will be old enough to attend Hogwarts…” Another pause, before,

“But for now, it is your turn! I hope that each of you will be a credit to each of your houses.” He smiled, before shifting direction, and starting on a couple deadset rules, which I intended to follow. “Now, for a few announcements, before bed. First, all first years should note, that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all students. Hence it’s more common name: the Forbidden Forest.

“Secondly, Mr. Filch wishes to remind you all that no magic is allowed in the corridors between classes, and that does include pranks that are banned. Anyone doing so will be required to complete detention. Curfew around the castle is 10 pm most nights.

“And finally, Quidditch tryouts will be held next week. Anyone, second year and above, who wishes to play for their house team should talk with Madam Hooch. And now I feel it is time for everyone to be in bed. Off you go.”

And with that, everyone rose from where they were sitting. The noise alone was deafening, and I wasn’t looking forward to climbing all the stairs on crutches. Charlie had been nice enough to allow me to prop my ankle up on his knee during the feast, but now my ankle was loudly protesting the amount of moving. I felt like puking, and wanted a pain potion.

“I’m _dying_ to see the Gryffindor common room,” Rowan mentioned, as we and the rest of the first years followed the fifth year prefects upstairs. 

“Yeah?” I huffed, still trying to keep up, while figuring out the best way to manage the stairs on crutches. This was going to be a problem, to say the least. The exercise combined with the amount and richness of the food was also playing a part.

The year here was also just large enough I didn’t feel too far behind. We reached the portrait hole just in time for the female prefect to give the password (“Fortuna”), before everyone scrambled through the hole. I just barely managed to not fall flat on my face, getting through on my crutches.

Hopefully, Madam Pomfrey could work her magic, and quickly.

“I’m so happy we got put in Gryffindor,” Rowan commented, as she helped me regain my balance, as the portrait hole closed behind me. “Would you like to hear an extensive history of Gryffindor house, including a comprehensive biography of Godric Gryffindor himself?” she asked, as we followed the rest of the first years into the wider common room.

“For now Rowan,” I replied, trying to pay attention to the prefect’s direction. “Let’s just take it all in.”

The common room was kind of  _ amazing _ . The warm tapestries decorating the walls looked vaguely familiar, but there was more to take in. The fire place was roaring in the large fireplace, helping to fend off the chill. The cushy looking chairs and couches looked comfortable enough to curl up in during the worst of winter, complete with a good book. One of the prefects was directing which staircase was which. The guys were on the left, us and the other girls were to the right.

All the guys trailed toward theirs when the prefects let us go, as did the handful of other girls, which we followed up for the night.


	5. First Day of classes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day of classes at Hogwarts - Charms and Potions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last part making up chapter two in game  
> I only have Ellie as my own. Any recognisable dialogue is Jam City's.

The big thing I did on Sunday was go down to Madam Pomfrey. She was there, and seemed initially frustrated that _there was already a student injured_ , before I explained that it happened before school started.

It had taken longer than expected, but I was feeling better, and the school matron had worked her magic to where I could, maybe not comfortably, walk around the castle (mostly) without crutches. It also turned out that mum had owled Madam Pomfrey a few bottles of her pain potion. I was glad for that.

The rest of Sunday was happily split between lounging in the Gryffindor common room, and exploring the grounds a little with this fragment of free time. I’d also caught snatches of a small service being held, not that I really cared.

It was as me and Rowan got back to Gryffindor tower that night, that I had my first confrontation with someone who had felt the effects of my brother.

“You!” There was a wand brandished in my face by a unknown third year. “I can’t believe they even let you in here after your mental brother got expelled, and ruined Gryffindor’s reputation.” I held my hand up in a defensive position, holding my breath.

Rowan jumped on the defensive as well, since it was clear I currently couldn’t defend myself.

“Ellie will be an _outstanding_ Gryffindor,” she bit out. “I’m assuming you aren’t, since you seem to be spending your time bullying first years!”

It didn’t exactly have the intended effect. 

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, his tone long suffering, but he didn’t drop his wand. “I’ll be keeping an eye on both of you.” And with that, he backed off, going back to whatever he had been working on before in the corner near the boys dorms.

We moved closer to the fireplace.

“Sorry,” Rowan said. “I know you asked me to follow your lead, back in Diagon Alley, but I can’t let _anyone_ talk to my friend like that.”

I took a breath. “It’s alright, thanks Rowan.” I replied, getting my heartrate down.“Something tells me that _won’t_ be the last time someone brings up my brother.” We both headed up to the dormroom not long after.

Sunday night otherwise passed quietly.

By quietly, I mean that everyone else in the dormroom was asleep, and I ended up being unable to sleep. There was something that the older student said that was niggling at the back of my brain. I lay on my four poster for what felt like _hours_ , and it was probably a good thing Rowan brought an alarm clock with her.

I passed out at some point, not sure when, but I woke to Rowan’s alarm clock _ringing in my ear_ and Rowan attempting to pull me from the bed.

I flailed at the feeling, and very nearly fell off. 

I hastily dressed, carrying my tie, before Rowan stopped me in the common room and fixed it.

“Have you had the chance to look at your time table?” I asked her, as she tweaked the tie into place. Rowan drew back, looking excited.

“Yes!” she exclaimed. Can you believe it? Herbology with Professor Sprout, Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall…” She seemed to vibrate in place. “What are _you_ most looking forward to, Ellie?”

I gave it a thought. “I’m definitely looking forward to Charms class.” I grinned a little. “I want to learn all of those amazing charms from Professor Flitwick!”

She seemed to bounce a little in response. “Luckily, we have Charms first thing today.” She then gave a pull. “But not if we don’t get downstairs quickly.”

We walked down to breakfast, before figuring out where the Charms classroom was located. Rowan’s knowledge of _Hogwarts: A History_ was exceptionally useful. 

I followed Rowan to where she wanted to sit, which ended up being the front row, near where Flitwick was standing on his stack of books. It was as we headed towards the seats, that Flitwick beckoned me in front of him. I indicated to Rowan that I’d be right there.

“Ms. Marcovitz,” Flitwick greeted. “How nice to finally meet you.”

“Professor,” I greeted cautiously, raising a hand in greeting. “I’m looking forward to learning Charms.”

There was a moment of scrutiny, then, “If you’re anything like your brother, you’ll do just fine. He was one of my most skilled students.” A pause. “That being said, he was also one of my most rebellious students as well.” Further scrutiny, and I shifted my weight, ankle still aching. “Are you going to follow the rules?”

That caught me off guard. I wasn’t looking to smash the rules to pieces, but I wasn’t about to blindly follow them, either. “I’ll do my best to follow the rules, but I can’t make any guarantees.” I could almost feel the disappointment and grudging acceptance of my answer.

“Very well,” he replied. “Please take your seat. I’ll be starting shortly.” I nodded.

I took the seat to the left of Rowan, and raised my hand during roll.

“Welcome to Charms,” Flitwick greeted the class. “I will be your instructor, Professor Flitwick.” He glanced around the room at the mostly attentive faces. “Please pay close attention to the instructions I will be giving, and do take great care in practicing the spells you will learn.”

Everyone nodded, eagerness on most faces.

He continued. “Today, we will be learning the wand lighting charm, a very important spell for everyone, as it is useful in dark places, be it checking for dangers in a shadowy room,” he gave a dramatic pause, and I could hear Rowan’s quill already scratching away. “Or just trying to find a scroll that rolled under the sofa.”

Everyone gave a laugh and relaxed. Flitwick smiled at the now more at ease class, and showed off. “ _Lumos_!”

Light burst from his wand tip, and with that, class started.

Flitwick took in a few confused faces. “You’re probably wondering how, yes?” Several people nodded. “I’ll explain it to you. Listen carefully, everyone.”

I listened as best I could, but it sounded a lot like what was in the book assigned for the class. That didn’t mean Flitwick _didn’t_ manage to inject some humour into the lecture as well. 

Rowan also appeared to be doing a better job at taking notes anyway, which allowed me to study Flitwick’s wand movements better as well.

“Now,” Flitwick started, breaking into my thoughts and dragging my attention back to the very front. “I have a question for… Ms. Marcovitz.” I briefly groaned to myself. Nothing like being the one picked on during the very first class. “Let’s see if you can answer this.”

“Ask away.”

“What does the charm _Lumos_ provide?” Seriously?

“Light.” I deadpanned, and there were a couple of chuckles throughout the classroom, even Flitwick; though there were also some disapproving looks. _Purebloods_ , I rolled my eyes mentally.

“Now it’s your turn,” Flitwick said, gesturing for us to pick up our wands, and everyone did, some more confidently than others. “Remember, the incantation is _Lumos_.”

Everyone divided up into either pairs of two, like me and Rowan, or tackling it individually. I noticed Ben was actually managing quite well for how scared he looked. Rowan had accumulated a small stack of parchment in the short amount of time.

“I’ll write down the outcome of each spell attempt,” Rowan offered. I nodded in agreement. This was still a finicky spell for me. I breathed in and tried to focus.

The first try - nothing. I wasn’t even sure I’d pronounced it right, but Rowan said I did. The next few tries produced a light with increased intensity each time, but not quite there yet. 

Turns out, fifth time’s the charm, no pun intended.

“Lumos,” I said, focusing intently on my movement. It worked.

And it had been the attempt Flitwick had been paying attention to.

“Well _done_ , Ms. Marcovitz,” Flitwick cheered. “That’s the best execution of _Lumos_ I’ve seen from a first year in quite some time.” That surprised me a little. Then,

“Ten points to Gryffindor!”

The bell indicating the end of class rang, and I consulted the piece of parchment my classes were listed on. Thankfully, for now, Rowan and I shared the same classes.

Which meant, we had Potions next.

Jacob had never really talked about his classes, at least with me. There had been some complaining about a new potions master, but hadn’t elaborated in my earshot, nor could I remember the year.

All I knew, the name ‘Snape’ sounded familiar and not in a good way.

“Nice work, Ellie,” Rowan commented, as we left the classroom. “I read everything I could find on Lumos, and yours was still better.” I gave a half shrug, not fully believing it. “You’re a natural.”

It wasn’t until we reached the end of the Charms corridor that I said, “Mum taught it to me a couple years ago. That was the first time I’d gotten it that bright.” I shrugged, and we both laughed a little.

I followed Rowan as we figured our way down to the dungeon where the potions classroom was located. I had to pause to fix my bandages and sock. Bloody socks weren’t wanting to stay up.

It hadn’t taken long, but when I managed to catch up, there was a new confrontation.

Rowan looked, admittedly, terrified. It was not helped that I was having a mental visit back to primary.

“Admit it!” The demand echoed through the corridor, and I hurried closer.

“I can’t!” Rowan balked. 

“Say ‘I’m the most powerful witch at Hogwarts’!” the Slytherin demanded.

“It’s logically impossible!” Rowan protested as I walked up. “I’ve made numerous lists of the most powerful people at Hogwarts, based on multiple factors. You’re less powerful than Professors McGonagall, Sprout, Madam Hooch, Madam Pomfrey, every seventh year… You’re a first year like me!”

“I’m _nothing_ like you!”

 _Unlikely_ , I thought darkly, the primary school memories still playing at the front of my mind. “Get away from her!” I demanded, moving in front of Rowan. It wasn’t helped by the fact that I was about a head shorter than Rowan. 

“And who do you think _you_ are?” she demanded, turning on me. Rowan talked instead.

“Ellie is the one who should be the one claiming to be the best,” she defended. “Professor Flitwick said that _she_ cast the best wand lighting charm of any first year!” The Slytherin’s demeanour changed.

“Ellie?” She seemed to be studying me. “Now I know _exactly_ who you are.” Her eyes seemed to flash with wicked glee. “ _You’re_ Eleanor Marcovitz. Your brother lost his mind, disgraced his house, got expelled from school, and was never heard from again. You belong in Gryffindor.” There was a nasty sneer playing around her lips at that last comment.

And she confirmed who she was. The Snydes were notorious for their blood purity fanaticism and ability to make gossip out of anything. I suspected that Rita Skeeter was a distant relative.

“And who are you?”

“Merula Snyde,” Bingo. “First year Slytherin and the _best_ witch at Hogwarts.” Oh boy. This would get old if this continued. “I heard the professors whispering about you at the feast.” Great. “I suppose you think you’re better than me.”

“Hardly.” I muttered, but she plowed on without listening.

“I should put you out of your misery, before you ruin Hogwarts like your brother tried to do.”

I clenched my hands into fists, tensing. Rowa held me by the shoulder, with just enough pressure to keep me from lunging at the Slytherin girl. I grit my teeth.

“I don’t want any trouble.” A sneer played on Snyde’s face.

“You don’t have a choice.”

“I’m warning you, Merula,” I was surprised at how calmly I was speaking, fingering my wand, and pushed on. “Don’t try to bully me, or my friends.” It was then when Snape himself showed up.

Great.

“Ms. Marcovitz,” Snape said, his tone unmistakably frosty. “I knew you would be trouble.” My own face hardened, and mental shields thrown up, along with gritted teeth.

“Professor Snape!” Merula exclaimed, a little surprised.

“Merula was bullying my friend.” I defended. “Professor.”

There was a pause as Snape seemed to contemplate how much he could get away with, before, “Get to Potions class. Be thankful you aren’t headed for detention.” His voice was cold, firm and snide, and I was glad I wasn’t currently holding anything that I could easily throw.

Merula left with Snape, and both headed into the classroom.

“Thanks for standing up for me Ellie,” Rowan said, after they had disappeared in. “I’ve never been very strong. Or very good at making friends.” I gave a snort of agreement, knowing the feeling. I wasn’t all that great at it either. “I’m glad we’re both in Gryffindor.”

“So am I, Rowan.” I returned, before puzzling over what was said. “Did you hear what Merula said?” I asked. Rowan nodded. “Why would the professors be talking about me? Besides the obvious.” I pointed at my ankle and the bandage poking above my slipping sock.

Rowan shrugged. “I don’t know, but we’d better get to Potions. We’re in enough trouble as it is.” I sighed, but agreed. Snape really seemed like the kind of teacher who would deduct points without a real reason, and we didn’t need to be pushing what tenuous luck we had with him. We took our seats, and I had to take the one next to Merula. I rolled my eyes, but said nothing.

Snape stood looming at the front of the potions classroom, as the last students filtered in and settled into their spots.

“This is your first potions class, and based on the bewildered look in your eyes, this could very well be your last.” His dark eyes seemed to glitter in what torchlight there was down here. “Unlike other classes, this is not a place for foolish wand-waving, and intolerable screeching of mispronounced incantations.” _He must have been so fun during his school days._ I though.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. Ensnare the senses. Bewitch the mind. Keep your mouth shut.”

There was a flurry of quiet murmurs between people at that, before falling silent. Snape scowled. “Today, you will produce a simple Cure for Boils potion. Know that I expect perfection. And know that there will be severe consequences for failing to meet my expectations.” I figured there had to be others boggling at that. It wasn’t like we could _drop_ the class, now could we? “Let us begin.” Contempt seemed to be his default setting.

Merula briefly turned around, smirk firmly planted on her smug face. “You think you’re so special, but you’re already guaranteed to fail, Marcovitz,” she sneered.

“And what’s _that_ supposed to mean?” I asked, already sick of her haughty attitude. Her smirk only grew.

“You’ll see…” she replied, her tone, appropriately, snide. I did _not_ like the sound of that. She turned around, her face annoyingly smug.

“Ignore her, Ellie,” Rowan muttered. “After getting reprimanded by Snape, we _need_ to brew this potion perfectly.” I nodded in agreement. 

“The lesson starts.” Snape scowled. “To even begin to brew the Cure for Boils, your technique must be perfect. Watch me.” We clustered around Snape and his cauldron. I got close enough to watch, but not too close to Snape himself.

Everyone pulled out a notebook, most already designated ‘Potions.’ I took the time as he coaxed the flame to take down the ingredient list as well as I could remember. I paid attention the best I could. 

“Crush your snake fangs into a powder,” he instructed, tipping the pre-crushed fangs into the cauldron. “And only a _fool_ would prick their fingers on porcupine quills,” was muttered as he brandished the things before dropping them in as well. “I will take five points from anyone who pronounces an ingredient incorrectly.” I doubted that, some. Only if Rowan or me did so, which was unlikely between us.

Halfway through this demonstration, Merula was clearly bored by this. “I know how to brew any potion,” she bragged, in a loud whisper. I gave her side eyes and quirked an eyebrow. So Snape was selectively deaf to the Slytherin, huh? “Almost every potion.” she amended in a mutter, and I seriously doubted even that, and returned my focus to my notebook.

Snape happened to notice the number of pages I’d already written, and sneered. “You’re actually getting this.” Snape sounded bored. “I’m shocked.” _Yeah right_. “Do not make me repeat myself. Focus!”

I focused, pulling the list from memory. Snape looked pissed, and I smirked to myself.

With that, we were allowed to fetch our respective cauldrons, along with the ingredients needed. I grabbed mine, blowing out a little of the dust that had already accumulated in it. Setting it down on the worktop, me and Rowan went and fetched the ingredients needed. 

Everyone quietly worked away at their potions, some getting further than others. There was something niggling at the back of brain about it. I nudged Rowan when she wasn’t trying to chop one of the ingredients. “A little help?” I asked, pointing at my cauldron, _Magical Drafts_ open beside it.

“You want my help? Your potion looks great!” Rowan commented, and I mostly agreed. Mine _did_ look better than Merula’s, but there was _something_ that seemed _off_ about mine anyways. 

“Yours looks good,” said Slytherin sneered. “Good enough to be thrown in the bin.” I rolled my eyes. Now, _hers_ on the other hand…

“And what are you fetching _now_ , Marcovitz,” Snape asked impatiently, and I held up the one piece I had grabbed, along with an American middle finger, not that he would’ve gotten it anyways. I chopped it as best I could, and dropped it in. The potion got closer to the correct colour.

“Finish your potions quickly,” Snape barked to the whole class. “I want to see how poorly you executed this recipe.” I shrugged it off, giving it a last stir, before the wand wave. “I’m eager to see your attempt at the Cure for Boils potion.” The sarcasm was obvious.

I gave my wand a wave, but botched it a little, not that it seemed to make an immediate difference.

“Maybe Marcovitz _isn’t_ absolutely incompetent after all…” I heard Snape drawl, which made me a little suspicious. 

“Congratulations, Ellie,” Rowan said, Snape approached. “In all my research, hardly anyone ever brews this potion correctly on the first try!”

Then there a bubbling sound. I looked down. “Wait… what’s happening?” I asked. Rowan looked panicked.

“Did you add Bulbadox powder?” I shook my head. Mum had pointed out why not to. “From my studies, this looks like the beginnings of the explosive reaction caused by doing so…” I grabbed the textbook I had sitting next to it, along with my notebook, and basically ducked some.

It bubbled madly, before a small geyser erupted, and my cauldron shattered, allowing my Cure for Boils to spread all over the work table. I groaned at the sight.

“Congratulations, Marcovitz.” Merula chimed in. “You’ve cured the table of boils.” The sneer had returned, and I gave her an unimpressed face.

And here came Snape. “You should have never been allowed inside my classroom, Marcovitz.” Snape loomed over the messy remnants of my cauldron and potion. “You are, somehow, even worse than your brother. Ten points from Gryffindor.”

What the bloody hell? Seriously?

“What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Merula sabotaged me.” I replied, pissed. “I think she did something to my cauldron. Thinking back, there had been a crack, along with the amount of dust in it.

Snape was having none of it, which only added to my ire. “Take responsibility for your incompetence, Marcovitz.” I gave a snort.

“I would, if it had been me,”I started, somehow able to speak. “But Merula threatened me and my friend, and she said she would do something to make sure I failed Potions, just before you started.” I breathed. “She’s threatened, because she thinks I might be a more powerful witch.”

Snape turned to Merula. “Is that true, Miss Snyde?”

“Absolutely not, Professor,” Merula returned, and I silently fumed. “Marcovitz is clearly just as mad as her brother. And just as driven to ruin everything in Hogwarts.” Bloody. Hell.

“Your family has represented Slytherin well, Miss Snyde. I will be watching you closely to ensure you do the same.” His voice was cold, before he walked off.

“You did the right thing, Ellie,” Rowan consoled. “About telling him about Merula. I’m sure you would have lost more house points if you didn’t.”

I grit my teeth, willing myself to _not_ burst into unneeded tears. I had done _everything_ almost perfectly. Mum had let me help sometimes, and while I had a tendency to constantly check the textbook, the cure for boils had been largely completed from memory. Yes, I botched the wand work a little, but I was still _really_ new to this.

And minus the Bulbadox powder Merula had slipped into it, probably when I had been over measuring ingredients. 

I resisted the urge to hex her, despite not really knowing any duelling spells. I quietly tidied my things, resisted the urge to flip off Snape, and left the classroom as the bell rang, and before giving into the urge to throw _Magical Drafts and Jiggers_ at his overly large nose.

I left the potion dripping from the tabletop, knowing full well he could clean it up himself. I could hear him dismiss the rest of the class as I exited.

 _Ten points_ , and on the first day of classes no less. What was this guy’s problem?

I heard Rowan’s footsteps behind me as I headed for the Great Hall for lunch. I could also hear the laughs of Merula and her friends behind me, as I desperately fought to keep from falling apart in front of everybody.

Lunch was quiet, with Rowan doing most of the talking as I consulted my time table, and merely poked at most of my food.

History of Magic was Tuesday mornings, followed by Herbology and then Flying and Transfiguration in the afternoon. Wednesday evening was Astronomy, followed by History of Magic the next morning. Friday afternoons were free, and I hoped to explore the grounds a bit more. Which left Defence Against the Dark Arts Monday and Wednesday afternoons, and our last class for the day.

And it turned out to be a joke.

I could learn this on my own time without wasting two hours. I’d already read the textbook through entirely, before leaving for Hogwarts. There wasn’t much else I could do with a badly sprained ankle. Which was aching again.

After DADA, we headed back to Gryffindor tower. It was there that we were accosted again as soon as we’d gotten through the portrait hole. This time, it was the female prefect who had led the group of us first years up to the tower.


	6. Dealing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 in game, and the fallout from the disastrous potions class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meeting Ben, Angelica Cole, and the devil's snare, along with the first flying class.  
> Modified the first flying class

It was as we were heading back to Gryffindor tower, when we crossed paths with the scared looking blond boy from the sorting ceremony. He was hanging around by the portrait hole, as if he was waiting for us.

“You’re Ellie Marcovitz, right?”

“Yes, and you’re…?” I asked, done with today. I was tired and the day felt like it had stretched out to two weeks. My ankle ached.

“Ben Copper,” He introduced. “I’m a first year Gryffindor like you. I just wanted to say ‘thank you’ for standing up to Merula Snyde.”

That gave me a jolt. No doubt, the confrontation and the events of potions class were making the gossip circuit since lunch.

“Who told you that?” I asked. Ben looked more nervous at the accusation.

“I was watching from the end of the corridor,” he admitted, and I figured he’d been behind me and Rowan on the way down from Charms. “I’ve been following her, so she can’t sneak up on me,” I winced. “And if she does see me, I’ll at least be able to run away.” That alone took guts, from my short experience with her. “She tormented me the entire way here on the Hogwarts Express. She kept threatening me and calling me a ‘mudblood.’”

We gasped, horrified. That was the worst thing to say to anyone. 

“I’m sorry, Ben,” I said, feeling horrible for him. “That’s terrible.”

“Merula’s obsessed with being the best witch in our year, and she thinks she has to impose her will on us to prove it.” He wasn’t wrong. “I’m just glad someone was brave enough to stand up to her. I’m certainly not. It’s a joke that I got put into Gryffindor.”

“Everyone's afraid of something, Ben,” I said, a little curious. “And it certainly took guts to follow her in the first place.”

“Unfortunately, I’m afraid of everything. I come from a muggle family, so all of this is new and scary for me.”

“I know how you feel,” I admitted. “I’m from a wizarding family, and this is still hard for me too. I’ll certainly try and help as much as I can, Ben, as will Rowan.” Rowan nodded eagerly in agreement.

Ben seeme to cheer up a little at that. “Thanks, Ellie. I’ll see you around?” I nodded, and he disappeared into the common room after giving the password. We followed him in.

All I wanted to do now was sit down and forget about the events of this morning.

Unfortunately, luck was not on my side today. A dark haired girl, wearing a prefect’s badge, approached us at a quick pace, stopping us in the middle of the common room.

“You already lost Gryffindor _ten points_ ?! We’re in fourth place now. May I ask _what happened_?” she demanded, as we stopped. I was taken aback.

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” I asked tentatively. She looked like one of the prefects from the first night. “And why are you talking to me about house points?”

“I’m your prefect, Angelica Cole,” she introduced herself. “It’s a prefect’s job to keep order in the house, along with helping first years like you deal with the problems you’re having.” She looked frustrated with herself. “Considering what your brother did to Gryffindor’s reputation, I should’ve kept a closer eye on you.”

I really did feel bad. “I’m sorry,” I said, the guilt setting in. “I don’t know what happened, but I never intended to hurt Gryffindor’s chances of winning the house cup.”

Angelica at least looked understanding. “I believe you, Ellie. I would talk to Snape myself, if I thought it would do any good.” I nodded.

“It really wasn’t my fault,” I added mournfully. “Another student, a Slytherin named Merula Snyde, did something to make my potion explode.”

Angelica looked sceptical. “Do you have any solid proof?”

I sighed. “No,” I muttered, regretting bringing it up.

“In any case,” Angelica continued, her face serious. “Professor Snape already sent you a letter directly to the common room.” She held out the piece of parchment. I took it, feeling suspicious. Snape did _not_ seem the type of teacher to do this.

“Why wouldn’t he send it to me?” I wondered out loud.

“Probably because he despises you,” Angelica commented casually. “You and the whole of Gryffindor.” I gave a snort of agreement. Both him and Merula.

“Understatement,” I muttered.

“Snape hates everyone, so I wouldn’t take it personally. But I would read that, immediately.” she added, pointing to the piece of parchment. 

“ _Marcovitz,_ ” I started, feeling weird about reading this. “ _I have discovered evidence that your potion may have been tampered with_ .” I quirked an eyebrow. “Oh really, huh? ‘ _While it does not prove your innocence_ .” I rolled my eyes. “‘ _It does cast some doubt on my belief that you are hopelessly incompetent. Bring me a jar of_ ,” I wrinkled my nose. “‘ _Pickled slugs from the Potions Storeroom, and I will consider restoring your house points. Snape._ ’”

Something about this left me uneasy. Might’ve been the misspellings… “There are directions to the potions storeroom at the bottom of the letter…” I added. Rowan leaned in for a look.

“Want me to go with you, Ellie?” she asked, concerned. “It’s the least I could do, after you saved me from Merula earlier today.” I nodded, not really having to think about it.

“Yes, please,” I replied. “Thanks, Rowan. You know your way around the castle much better than I do. And a second pair of eyes and hands never hurt.”

“Look, Snape’s offering to give us back the ten house points you lost! Hurry to the potions storeroom, before he changes his mind!”

If it really was him, and he hadn’t _already_ changed his mind while we were in Defence Against the Dark Arts.

The instructions were _not_ clear, and sent up red flags. If it really _was_ Snape, they would’ve been more blunt and less _directionally challenged_. It was as we reached the east tower corridor, that there was a niggling thought.

“There’s the cupboard indicated,” Rowan pointed. “Near the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.” This made me even more nervous. “I thought it was located on the tapestry corridor.” She seemed confused. “I suppose there _must be_ more than one…”

It wouldn’t surprise me, especially with Snape. He seemed the type to have ingredient stashes around the castle.

“I need to get pickled slugs,” I cringed. Just reading that made me feel sick. “And bring them to Snape, so I can get those measly ten points back.” I muttered, my senses sensing something or some _one_ nearby.

There was the Defence Against the Dark Arts class no doubt in session, but that wasn’t what was setting off my senses.

We opened the door, and stepped in.

“I can’t see a thing,” I muttered to myself, and heard the thud of the door closing behind me. I turned to face Rowan. “Why’d you close the door Rowan?”

“I didn’t!” Rowan defended. “It closed behind me as soon as I stepped inside!” I sighed, and nodded, unsure she even saw it. “And I think it’s locked…” I gulped, and we both tried the handle of the door.

It was.

Not good.

“You should cast _Lumos_ ,” she said. “It’ll help us see in here.” I nodded, recognising her calm logic, and pulled my wand.

“LUMOS!” I half yelled. Light burst forth from my wand tip, lighting up the room we were in, and illuminating what looked like a giant mass of a plant nearly filling the room.

My mind went blank. This was terrifying.

“What is that?” I gasped, moving towards the door. Before Rowan could speak, there was the sound of someone’s hand impacting on the outside of the door.

“A deadly plant,” came Merula’s voice and I suppressed a groan. _Damn, damn, damn._ I _knew_ there was something off about that note. “Called Devil’s Snare.” I could almost _hear_ the maniacal smile she would be wearing. “Some fourth year Slytherins showed it to me when I first arrived.”

Make that another reason I was glad I _wasn’t_ in Slytherin.

“It’s sensitive to light.” She continued, and I had a feeling she had a reason for that. “If you’re _really_ better at the wand-lighting charm than me, then escaping should be no problem.” I could still hear the smirk. 

I turned furious. “You locked us in here?!” _What the hell?_

“Along with sending you the fake letter from Snape. I _told you_ things would only get worse for you, Marcovitz.” I rolled my eyes. What I wouldn’t _give_ to punch her. Some people just needed to be taken down a peg, and she was one of them. “You should have never blamed me for your failure in Potions.”

That I didn’t regret. At all.

“Something had to stop you from ruining Hogwarts.” My fury rose. “It may as well be Devil’s Snare….” I heard both her footsteps walking away, and the eerie creaking of the plant itself moving.

“AAH!” I shrieked, as it decidedly wrapped around my waist, and another tendril attempted to grab my wand arm.

“Ellie!” Rowan cried out, shocked as well. I tightened my grip on my wand, causing the light to briefly flare. _That_ tendril backed off, but another tendril wrapped around my sore left ankle, then another around my right.

“We have to get out of here!” I cried, starting a tug ‘o war to keep the plant from wrapping tighter. The tendrils backed away from the light.

“Merula was right about Devil’s Snare being sensitive to light…”

“Focus Rowan!” 

“Use _Lumos_ to hold it off, while I try to open the door, and call for help!” She looked and sounded as panicked as I felt. “Help!” she called, banging on the door. “We’re trapped in here with Devil’s Snare! Someone help!”

It took awhile, and a lot of energy. 

And it wasn’t helped by the fact it also tried to attack Rowan as well. We managed to keep it from killing us, even though it took a stupid amount of energy and time. I’d been forced to let my magic rebuild several times, before we managed to get it somewhat subdued.

It had, however, taken the chance at one point to wrap itself around my chest, which made combatting it all that much harder. I wasn’t even sure exactly how much time had passed since we’d ended up in here.

“What’s goin’ on in there?” A vaguely familiar voice said. A few heavy thumps, then, “Outta the way!” Rowan moved back, startled. 

Bang! 

It was Hagrid!

“Gulpin’ gargoyles, Gryffindor! Get away from that Devil’s Snare. Yer scarin’ it!” I gave a choking noise of incredulous surprise. _Me_ ? Scaring _it_? “Let’s get yeh outta there…”

And with quick work, both him and Rowan managed to extract me from the various tendrils.

I dusted myself off, as we moved out into the corridor. It seemed darker now, glancing out towards the Ravenclaw tower as we passed it.

“Thanks, Hagrid,” I said, breaking the silence as we reached the end of the corridor. It seemed to take him by surprise.

“Yer Ellie Marcovitz, right?” he asked, and I nodded tiredly. “An’ yer Rowan, right?” She nodded, much more awake. “Yeh must be the ones everyone’s been talkin’ about.” I grumbled a little to myself. “Maybe trouble really does run in your family. How’d yeh end up in there, Ellie?”

I sighed. “A first year Slytherin named Merula Snyde locked us inside.” Hagrid looked alarmed.

“She did?! What are yeh goin’ to do?”

I contemplated my options.

I think I’m going to tell Professor Dumbledore, and make sure she’s punished,” I replied, slowly feeling the adrenaline leave my system.

“Do yeh have any proof?” Hagrid asked, what I could see of his face was serious.

I pulled the piece of parchment from my pocket, a little surprised it had survived the battering so well. “I have a fake letter from ‘Snape’” I made air quotes, “but I can’t exactly prove that she’s the one who wrote it.” I shrugged, feeling the late hour.

Hagrid seemed concerned. “Professor Dumbledore would want teh help yeh, but even he can’ do anything if yeh don’ have physical proof.” He knocked some dirt off my shoulder and nearly sent my knees crashing to the ground. “I’d head back to yer common room an’ take some time teh think, Ellie. I don’ want yeh doin’ somethin’ yeh’ll regret.” I nodded, recognising what he was trying to tell me.

Don’t be rash.

"Yeh might also want to do somethin' about those robes," he added, as we climbed the stairs. I grimaced at the reminder. "That Devil's Snare got yeh good." I could _feel_ some of the tattered edges against my legs.

"Thanks Hagrid," I said softly, as we approached the Gryffindor common room. "Hopefully, I'll see you again."

"Yeh certainly will, Ellie." There was a smile under his beard. "But fer now, yeh'd better be gettin' into her common room. It's late enough."

We nodded, and gave the password to a displeased looking Fat Lady, who had awoken as we approached. I waved before clambering inside.

Back to the tower, my watch reading some time after 01:00. Angelica was sitting by the roaring fire, as we tiredly made our way into the darkened common room.

“Did Snape give you the points back?” she asked as she flicked a couple lamps on so we could see. She took another look at us, especially me.

“Bloody hell,” she muttered. “What happened to your robes?”

“I ended up snared in some Devil’s Snare.” I grumbled. It was far too… early? Late? for this again.

“Devil’s Snare?! How?!” Her voice grew, though not much louder than it had been. “What happened to Professor Snape?" There was a hint of thinly disguised hope in her voice, as if he'd been caught in it before us.

"It was a trick," I grumbled. "Merula Snyde faked the note from Snape, and trapped us in the cupboard with the Devil's Snare."

"What is it with you and this girl?" She asked, incredulous. I shrugged, just wanting this over with.

"I think she's threatened by me, honestly," I replied. "And I think she hates that I'm the only first year who's stood up to her."

"Still no proof?" Angelica only asked. I shook my head. Only my memories. 

"Only the fake note, which I can't pin on her."

Angelica fell quiet, taking in my battered clothes. "Well, you can't go around the castle dressed like that, McGonagall would have a right fit. Do you have a second set?”

I nodded. It was always good to have a backup set. 

"Looks like you're using them. At least you won't look like someone used you to practice the severing charm on." Angelica said, before she sent us off to bed.

We headed up to our dorm room, found pyjamas and went to sleep. I barely even made it under the blankets before crashing.

Rowan’s alarm clock sounded at the same time as yesterday, and we groggily shuffled from bed. I was glad I had a second set of robes, but hadn’t expected to be using them on the second day of classes.

I revived over breakfast, which was a bowl of oatmeal for this morning. Then it was time for History of Magic. Rowan had spent the half hour mostly happily chattering about the classes for the day in between bites of food.

We spent the next half hour trying to find the right classroom. The timetables didn’t necessarily give the needed room number, or the floor needed.

Which in a castle this big, I figured that at least was a given.

In History of Magic, I managed to stay awake for the first roll call, before crashing out again. Rowan later told me that she made it halfway before succumbing to sleep herself. I had blearily recognised several of the names from the sorting, including Tonks, Karasu, and Kim, before mine and promptly passing out.

Apparently, this was normal, I later learned.

Herbology, and thankfully, Sprout kept us busy enough, I was beginning to feel normal enough again. Even Rowan seemed more cheerful, as the day continued.

We revived a little more over lunch, even if it was sandwiches. Rowan continued to do most of the talking at meal times.

Lunch ended, as the bell chimed for afternoon classes. It was time for flying class.

We headed back out onto the grounds and over to the sweeping training area, when flying class was being held.

We arrived onto the training grounds, with a good handful of students there already. I recognised Penny Haywood, who was talking to another Gryffindor student, as Madam Hooch emerged from the castle.

She took the spot at the head of the line. “Welcome to Flying class,” she started, and the class quieted. Some people were already standing by a broom, while others, like Ben, were waiting to do so. “I will be your instructor, Madam Hooch.” She studied the class in front of her. “Since this is your first class, you will only be observing today, before learning how to summon your broom next class.”

There was a sort of awkward pause, as we digested the information she’d thrown at us.

“What’re you waiting for?” she barked at us. “Everyone step up to the left side of your assigned broomstick!” There was a flurry of movement as we moved towards the unoccupied broomsticks.

“I’ve been dreading this class all summer…” Ben muttered, becoming visibly nervous.

“Afraid of heights?” i wondered. I was a little, but not enough to dread flying class.

“Falling from heights, mostly,” he admitted. I didn’t blame him. “I told you, I come from a muggle family. The idea of flying through the sky on a broom is _terrifying_.” He had a point, even if there were some flaws. I glanced around briefly.

“Believe it or not,” I started. “I’ve never flown on a broom either. Mum and dad were pretty strict about using magic outside our house, since we live on a muggle army base.” Ben looked a little reassure at that, but not much.

“I don’t think I can do this, Ellie…” he mumbled, as we approached the rest of the group.

“You _can_ do this, Ben. Just concentrate on the broom, and not on falling.” 

“Do you promise to catch me if I fall?” He’d blanched, and was starting to shake.

“I promise to try my best.” That’s all I really could do.

“That’s not reassuring…” he whimpered. I gave him a stern look. “But I suppose I have to try sooner or later…” His voice seemed a little stronger, at least.

We took our places, me next to Rowan, and Ben across from me, albeit reluctantly. Madam Hooch raised her voice to us, as the last of the class settled next to their broom. “Even you don’t have anything to fear, Mr. Copper.” Ben looked a touch relieved. “You’ll only be observing today.”

And with that, class started.

“Listen up, everyone,” she started. “Today, I’m going to be demonstrating several different techniques, before you attempt to summon your broom in the next class. Understand?” There were several nods,signifying at least a few students were paying attention. Her expression was hawkish, keeping the class quiet for now.

“First off, there are four different known broom makers. Most of the brooms here are Comets, and a few are Cleansweeps. If you would, please, turn the broom to your right to where the name can be read. Quickly now!”

There was a flurry of movement and chatter as brooms were turned to see the names. Most seemed to have Comets, including Ben and Rowan, while I happened to have one of the Cleansweeps. 

“Those with a Comet, please take a seat next to your broom.” There was another flurry of activity, as what seemed like most of the class took a seat on the lawn, along with some grumbling. “Now those with the Cleansweeps, please raise your wand.” I pulled mine, pointing it at the sky. There were a couple others that did as well. 

“Mhm. And for the person with the Shooting Star, please raise your hand.” A lone hand went up quickly, before dropping about as quick. It was Merula, who looked pissed. I was just glad Madam Hooch wouldn’t be as biased as Snape, and play favourites as easily.

“Everyone back on your feet,” she barked, as soon as she confirmed the numbers. Another flurry of activity as people pulled themselves up. I helped up both Rowan and Ben, wanting to sit down myself.

I recognised all the brooms, despite never really having flown. I’d seen all of them in Jacob’s subscriptions to _Broom Monthly_ and _Which Broomstick_ , having squirrelled away the copies and paid the owls since he disappeared.

I managed to focus on what Madam Hooch was saying about the exercise, about how it was to see both our ability to listen and react to what she wanted.

Madam Hooch waited until the side conversations quieted down before continuing.

“I am now going to demonstrate what you all will be practicing next class and classes to come,” she said, setting her broom on the ground in front of her. “Now pay attention!”

I pulled my notebook from my robe pocket, along with a self-inking quill ( _disguised pen_ ). I caught a glimpse of the name on Madam Hooch’s broom, a Nimbus 1500, and I appeared to be much loved.

She demonstrated several basic maneuvers, starting with broom summoning. I made some notes, nothing overly detailed, just enough to check against Rowan’s later. Rowan seemed to be making full fledged diagrams in her notebook.

Ben seemed to be writing something down in his notebook as well, and Merula just seemed bored, probably just acting like she already knew this. Penny seem split between interested and bored, but dutifully taking down helpful notes.

A nudge from Rowan brought my focus back to the wider topic. The sound of the bell starting to toll told me class was coming to an end.

“A question before you go,” Madam Hooch said. “What are the four main broom makers?”

Several hands shot up, including mine. Of course, as seemed to be the current trend, I was picked.

“Comet, Cleansweep, Shooting Star and Nimbus.” i recited, ticking them off on my fingers to be absolutely sure.

“Correct,” Madam Hooch replied, before, “You’re free to go.”

“I suppose I don’t have to worry about falling if I never actually fly…” Ben mused as we gathered our bags. Madam Hooch approached, standing not far away. “Thanks for helping, Ellie,” he continued. “I may be able to fly soon if I keep following your lead.” I nodded.

“No problem, Ben.”

“I think you’ve chosen a fine tutor, Mr. Copper.” Madam Hooch added. She turned to me. “Miss Marcovitz, you seem to have a knack for helping your classmates overcome their fears. Ten points to Gryffindor.” 

“Thanks, Madam Hooch!” I cheered, feeling a little better. “I suppose I do.” It was clear the events of yesterday had spread far and wide through the students and teachers alike. I turned to Ben. “I think you just need to get used to the idea of flying on broom, Ben.” He seemed to pale a little. “I’m sure Rowan has some books about flying we can look at, and see if that helps.”

He nodded, looking a little better at the thought of just reading about flying, rather than actually doing it.

“I do like reading books,” he mused. “Hardly anyone falls to their death while reading a book.”

“Only in trees,” I muttered to myself, and Ben looked at me oddly. “Rowan story.” There was a pause.

“I should talk to her anyways,” I added, a little absently. “I think she’s taking recent events harder than I am.” Not that I blamed her. It felt like we’d already been leaping from one mini adventure to the next, with barely any breaks.

“You should ask her to play Gobstones!” Ben said, looking, for the first time here, enthusiastic about something. “I’d play it myself, but I’m afraid of getting sprayed…” His expression faltered, and I gave him an odd looking while internally rolling my eyes.

“I’m pretty sure the house elves here are adept at removing what ever it is the Gobstones spray,” I muttered, and Ben made a sound that I couldn’t tell if it was discomfort or agreement to what I was saying.

It was after she had grabbed her bag and we were heading back into the castle, that Rowan asked if I could meet her in the courtyard area after Transfiguration. I nodded, not sure why, but agreed.

McGonagall assigned us desks, and I was secretly grateful I wasn’t sitting at the very front of the classroom again. Rowan was alphabetically nearby as well. Class passed quietly, with McGonagall doing a couple demonstrations, which included her finishing by turning her desk at the front into a large pig.

There was polite applause, before she set us to try and turn a match stick into a sewing needle.

It was frustrating, to say the least. Even Rowan had ended with only a shiny looking match, with maybe a hint of the needlepoint.

I ended up with a match/needle hybrid. The match had morphed to the rough shape of a needle, with none of the shiny metal, and had started smoking with a tiny point of fire.

Eh. Dad was better at this than me. 40 (?) odd years of doing stuff like this was to his advantage. I waved the lit needle match, putting out the small fire and waving away the leftover smoke, coughing some.

McGonagall looked both annoyed and resigned, but gave both me and Rowan five points each for the closest attempts in the class, before brandishing the remaining smoke as the bell rang, indicating the end of classes for the day, for the first and second years.

As the class flooded out of the classroom at McGonagall’s allowance, me and Rowan headed in different directions.

“Meet me in the courtyard!” She called. “And find some muggle clothes!” she added, as she headed in the direction of the grounds.

“Alright!” I called back, following the majority of the year back into the main part of the castle. I wanted to drop my books in the dorm anyway.

We briefly crossed paths again as I approached the main staircase, and she handed her bag off with only, “Meet me in fifteen.”

I nodded, before continuing on my way up to the common room. I wished for some kind of map, as I followed the staircases up to the seventh floor. Somehow, I managed not to get lost, and remembered the password.

I dropped our bags on their respective beds, before riffling around in my trunk for some muggle clothes. There was something particular I had in mind…

All I could find was a plain white tshirt, some of Jacob’s old khaki pants, and a pair of his old, orange trainers.

Ugh! Seriously not my first pick in clothes, but that's apparently what I currently had with me.

I changed out of my robes, making a point of laying them neatly on the chair next to my four poster bed. I felt more than a little vulnerable in just short sleeves, as I made my way back downstairs to the courtyard area.


	7. Gobstones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gobstones in the courtyard, and another confrontation with Merula

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a good break point. Next up, duelling!  
> i only own my geeky nerd.

It was nice, the courtyard, and temporarily escaping the already crushing expectations pf both the teachers and the rest of the student body was nice. I approached Rowan, going over to where she was standing next to the fountain. She turned around at the sound of my footsteps.

“Hey,” I said, stopping at the edge of the chalked circle that indicated a gobstones arena. I hadn’t exactly played for a few years, not since Jacob had become madly obsessed with the vaults.

“Hey!” she cheered, catching sight of me.

“There’s a game I haven’t played in a few years. Thanks for setting this up,” I gestured to the Gobstones circle. “It’s nice to escape the expectations.” I grinned. “And after everything with Merula and Snape, I could use a break.”

Rowan looked particularly thrilled.

“I play it on the farm often enough, mostly because I’m not strong enough to help.” Her expression turned pensive. “Should be fun, playing with another person who isn’t family, for once…” There was a pause. “Thanks for helping me adjust to things here, by the way.”

I smiled. “Of course, Rowan. It’s nice having a friend who understands me, and who can explain everything about Hogwarts.”

“I only wish I could explain _why_ Merula is such a bully…”Rowan wondered. I gave her an odd look. Out of all the things to be worrying about at the moment, this was at the bottom of my list, what I was the _least_ concerned about.

“I’ve been researching her family, to try and figure out why she acts the way she does…” Rowan continued. That answered what she’d been doing during Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“Look,” I said, abruptly cutting the explanation short. “Let’s relax, refresh my memory of how Gobstones is played, and you can tell me what you found out while we play.”

“Brilliant idea, Ellie,” Rowan cheered, as we took our respective sides of the circle. “Gobstones is the finest skill testing of manual dexterity in the world! It's a bit like marbles, 'cept that each time a point is scored, the loser gets sprayed!"

"Isn't something like Stinksap?" I asked, with a quirked eyebrow and crooked smile.

"Smells about right…" That response sent us both into a storm of giggles. We settled into a game, and after a few wrong moves, muscle memory kicked in, and I managed to gain enough points to lead. 

Rowan only grew more determined at that point.

"How do you like gobstones?" She asked, lining up her shot. I smirked back.

"How much do you know about wand wood?" I lobbed back, managing to knock one of hers away. She opened her mouth, before recognising the tactic. Another couple disarming questions thrown between us, before counted and lined up her final shot.

"I can't believe you might win…" she noted, as she aimed the gobstone.

"I think the library might've…" I petered off, as her shot missed, and she got sprayed, with a cry of surprise.

"How?!" But we both laughed, with me placing my gobstone down with the others. 

I was glad I did.

There was the sound of footsteps, and an unpleasantly familiar voice broke through. 

"Aw," came the mock sappy voice of Merula. "Isn't this precious?"

We both froze at the sound of Merula’s voice. I was silently glad the game had wrapped up already. Despite my comment to Ben, I wasn’t eager to give the house elves in laundry anymore work than _repairing my entire freaking uniform_ after the Devil’s Snare.

It also sent the hairs on the back of my neck standing and hackles up. She was clearly angling for a fight.

"Hello Marcovitz. You're unfortunately looking well after wrestling with the Devil's Snare. While you were off playing with plants" I turned enough to see the nasty sneer that seemed hang around her mouth cross her face. "I've been doing a little research about your brother."

 _Oh_ **_hell_ ** _no._ There was an unpleasant sinking feeling, and the feeling of cold dread filling my gut.

"Why don't you leave me alone?" I barked, feeling tense and my ire rising. _Maybe I should've gone to either Beauxbatons, or Ilvermorny…_ I also felt sick. The look on her face meant nothing good was going to happen.

She seemed to _leer_ at that. “Because you’re a danger to Hogwarts just like him, and none of us will be safe until you’re gone.”

I grit my teeth at that, even as it felt like a merciless punch to the gut, while Rowan seemed cautiously curious. _I wished I was that wide-eyed naive._

“What’re you talking about, Merula?” Merula seemed pleased that it was Rowan asking that.

“Marcovitz’s brother didn’t just get expelled for endangering the entire school in search of some _imaginary_ vaults…” She smiled wider at the next bit of information. “He immediately went _missing_ , and the next time he was seen, he was working with _Voldemort_.”

Rowan in particular seemed offended. I wasn’t too happy either.

“You can’t say that!” Rowan protested, the light atmosphere gone. “You have to call him He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!” I suspected the Khanna family had been impacted by You-Know-Who’s reign. I still had vague memories of the time as well.

Not to mention, the timing was way off. 

Merula took up a haughty expression. “I can say what I want.”

“You’re also lying.” I bit out, roughing out ages in my head. “He had nothing to do with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.” I could feel my anger rising again. This was going to be a long year, if she decided to keep pushing my buttons like this.

“No wonder the professors were talking about you before the Feast. They’re wondering if you work for The Dark Lord too.” Her tone was snide, and I rolled my eyes.

I highly doubted that. They were probably wondering why I showed up on crutches, despite magical medicine. Or why I had them in the first place.

“I don’t know why you’d ever bring up You-Know-Who, considering your family’s history.” I commented lightly. Merula seemed to flare up, like an angry cat.

“You don’t know _anything_ about me!” she hissed.

“Thanks to some research, I _do_ know that your parents were locked up in Azkaban for being loyal to You-Know-Who, during the war.” I gave her an analysing glace. “I think I finally understand _why_ you’re always so angry.” I sighed. “Just leave me alone, Merula.”

That only seemed to add to her anger. I’d clearly touched a nerve.

“Why don’t you just drop out of Hogwarts?” she retorted, face narrowed and red. “Save Gryffindor and your little friend here the _embarrassment_ of being associated with you.”

“You’re just afraid that I’ll be better than you.” I shot back, my frustration growing with her comment. It was only the second day of classes, and I was already fed up with the aggravating Slytherin.

“Afraid?” Her tone turned incredulous. “I’ll duel you right now.” She drew her wand from her robes. I pulled mine from the modified pocket, before pausing.

I so wished to walk away, not risk the trouble that might come from duelling and getting caught doing so. But I also wanted to hit her with the Bat Bogey that mum had taught me just before I left for Hogwarts.

Not that I could remember it, and not that I could walk away, either.

I raised my wand. She raised hers.

Before I could get anything out…

“Flipendo!” she yelled.

I was surprised by the force of the spell, as I was pushed back, slamming into the fountain behind me. I could feel my eyes starting to water at the amount of pain.

“Pathetic,” she muttered. “Learn a few more spells, Marcovitz, and maybe you’ll put up a real fight.” She sheathed her wand and went back inside. No doubt this would also make the rounds before bedtime.

I groaned. The last time I’d felt this much pain, Elliott had accidentally knocked a full backpack into my stomach during a fit of rage. I carefully leveraged myself up using the fountain.

Rowan looked mournful. “Merula’s never going to leave us alone…” I winced at the thought, and at the soreness radiating from my body.

“Not unless I manage to learn a couple more duelling spells.” I muttered. That did seem to help cheer Rowan up, at least.

“By the way, thanks for playing with me,” she added, picking up from where Merula interrupted, as we headed inside as well. “I’ve always thought Gobstones was the thinking witch’s quidditch, and I’ve never been good at making friends.”

I nodded in agreement. I hadn’t had the easiest time either. “We did become friends pretty quickly…” And I was glad for that fact.

Rowan pushed one of the doors wide enough to avoid bumping any sore spots. “Yeah, but most people think I’m either a useless weakling, or an awkward nerd. You’re weird like me.” A pause. “No offence.”

I smiled. Both things had been directed my way too. “I take it as a compliment. C’mon, let me introduce you to muggle pop culture.” I offered as we entered the main floor, and headed for the grand staircase.


	8. New Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astronomy, Flying class and a duelling spell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, Astronomy, Flying then duelling.  
> The space obsessed nerd is mine. And this is certainly unbeta'd

The rest of the afternoon was spent starting homework for Potions and Charms, which further flamed my irritation at Snape and Merula.

Because I had effectively been the one to screw up, I had been landed with an extra essay on top of the one he had assigned to the whole class as I had fumed.

Thank goodness for Rowan. I would _not_ have gotten through both of them otherwise.

Wednesday was quiet, with the only notable difference being we also had Astronomy. That was the real excitement.

Whereas Rowan had been eager for Charms, I was equally as excited for Astronomy class, despite both the time and my screwed up sleep schedule. Picking out my telescope had been a delight, during one of the trips to Diagon Alley, even if it wasn’t the fanciest design out there. I had gone for a Newtonian reflector versus a Galilean refractor telescope, knowing some of the advantages of the reflector to the refracting telescope.

Considering my childhood had been partially spent with a nose buried in huge books, it wasn’t much of a surprise.

Defence felt like it dragged on _forever_ , even more so than on Monday. The incompetence of the teacher was torture, even if it was the second class. I had even brought the textbook along with me, and _it_ was more informative.

It was with great relief that we were let out early, what seemed like a good half hour before the official end of class. I noticed Charlie seemed to dash as quick as he could downstairs, and most likely out onto the grounds. Me and Rowan agreed to finish up essays in the common room before dinner.

Dinner passed quietly. There wasn’t any sign Charlie was at dinner from where we sat, even as I sped through the night’s meal (soup? turkey? I wasn’t entirely sure), along with chatting with Rowan.

After finishing, we headed back to Gryffindor tower, even if I didn’t stay there. I grabbed both my telescope and textbook, before heading over to the Astronomy tower and planting myself at the very top of the stairs. This was going to be, by far, the largest class of the week, considering it was all first years of all houses.

As time drew nearer to class starting, people started appearing, both on the stairs and at the entrance to them. I recognised Penny, Tonks, Barnaby and Talbott, among others. Rowan joined me at the top of the stairs, and Ben was close by. 

Just before nine, the door creaked open. Holding it open, was an older african witch in yellowish gold robes. The chatter around seemed to drop, rippling down the stairs at her appearance. 

“Welcome to Astronomy,” she greeted, warmly. “Please head up and take a seat.”

We headed up, followed by the rest of the class. The Astronomy tower was, in my opinion, absolutely gorgeous.

Open to the night sky, it was an almost 360° view of the grounds and sky, along with something of an enchanted ceiling for the ones above us.

I also smelled tea.

Everyone fanned out, taking spots in clusters. Rowan, Ben and I grouped up. Merula and her group took seats far from us as possible. Charlie, I noted, was one of the last to arrive to class, squeezing in near us. I turned my focus back to Sinistra.

“Welcome to Astronomy,” she greeted again, as the class quieted. “I am Professor Sinistra, and this is year 1 Astronomy.” There were nervous giggles.

"First off," Sinistra started. "My tower, my rules, yes?" A pause "Rule number one, no sleeping during class!" She half-barked, coupled with an expressive hand gesture. "There is tea, if you feel yourself drifting."

I tuned out Sinistra as she talked about her grading policy (which sounded _a lot_ like the other teachers), with the only notable difference being that the class was split between lecture and observation periods. I trusted Rowan would get that and everything else.

My thoughts, unfortunately, turned from the beautiful vastness of space to what Merula had said yesterday. It had been festering in the back of my mind. I needed to learn a duelling spell or two, if I was going to get Merula off mine, Rowan's and Ben's collective backs.

Not to mention Angelica had no doubt heard by now what happened in the courtyard yesterday. I wasn't eager to confront her again about Merula.

A nudge from Rowan dragged me from my thoughts. Sinistra was going through telescope basics, which I followed along with. I even managed to learn a few things in the process. We also looked at different objects in space. I looked at a couple of stars, and at Jupiter, despite it being so close to the horizon.

I even thought I might’ve spotted Pluto, for a brief moment.

After class ended, we returned to Gryffindor tower. Sinistra warned us that this would be the earliest she'd ever let us out. I was going to take the time to relax with a novel, and forget the aggravating Slytherin.

Unfortunately, my luck was going against me and my plans.

As me, Rowan, and Ben clambered into the common room, Angelica approached us. Ben headed for his dorm as she approached. "Ben," she greeted as they passed, before focusing on me and Rowan.

Thankfully, she was to the point.

"Ellie, Rowan, meet me at the training ground tomorrow, after class. Wear something comfortable." We both nodded, before she nodded in return and went back to what she'd been doing.

I rubbed at the sore spot on the back of my head, where it had impacted after being hit with _Flipendo_.

The whole thing with Merula was downright exhausting.

"Think I'm going to head up to the dorm and grab a book," I muttered to Rowan. "Its been a long day."

She nodded. "Alright. I'll join you in a few minutes, if you're not down by then." I nodded, before slipping upstairs. It was much needed quiet compared to the common room.

Until I accidentally bumped into Allison Greene, an angry seventh year, as she was coming down to the common room, and I found myself unceremoniously slammed into the tower wall, with her wand jabbed under my chin.

"Your brother ruined my sister's life before disappearing," She hissed, face inches from mine. "Don't you _dare_ do the same to mine, don't even _think_ about it." She snarled, and I nodded, before she moved away just as quickly.

That left me shaking against the tower wall, before I regained both my senses and balance and continued up to the dorm. 

Definitely a good idea to avoid the common room for now.

I dug around in my trunk after changing into my pyjamas, looking for the novel I'd been working on during the train ride here. I found it, tucked under a blanket I had yet to pull out. Rowan came up not long after, just as I was curling up under the covers. It was cool enough to be glad for an extra blanket.

There was some light chat, before I delved into my book and Rowan delved into the homework she was finishing up. The other girls in the dorm came up some time after, having been sent to bed by the prefects. I tuned out their chatter, as they got ready for bed as well. 

The rest of the night passed quietly, as everyone bedded down.

Thursday passed quickly. I was able to enjoy History of Magic for the most part, just managing to resist Binns’ soporific drone. Herbology was still going over the basics, but it was fun enough. Then flaying class after lunch, which seemed to be the most anticipated of the classes.

Madam Hooch was waiting for us, when the class arrived.

“Welcome back to Flying class.” Hooch started, as everyone took their spots. “After observing for your first lesson, I am now going to teach you how to properly summon your broom.” There were a flurry of murmurs of excitement. 

“However,” she continued. “Before you can summon your broom, you need to learn how to maintain it.” She gestured to the long, wooden tables behind her. “Your brooms are already on the tables, and I have indicated who is at which broom station, and those will be your brooms for the next few years.” She gave a pause.

“To your broom care stations!”

We headed over to the tables, and there was a bit of a commotion as everyone found their spots. The group at my table consisted of me, Rowan, Penny ( _the braids were distinctive_ ) and Merula.

_Seriously?_

I glanced at the broom at hand, which appeared to be the Cleansweep I had last time. _This old broom needs a lot of work._

We set to work, as Madam Hooch gave us pointers. I listened as best I could, over Rowan and Penny chatting and Merula’s snide commentary.

“Hey, Merula,” I snapped, cutting her off mid-insult. “D’you think there’s a spell that would make you less annoying?” Her only response was a scowl. I gave a smirk, before digging into the cauldron for another can of wax. The one I had didn’t have enough, by my estimation.

I found clippers instead. I set them down, before trying again and only brushing the sides of the cauldron. I swore under my breath, and turned to Rowan, who was neatly trimming her broom tail. 

“Rowan, can I borrow your can of wax?” I murmured, hoping Merula wouldn’t hear me. “Mine’s low.”

“Sure,” she replied, setting down the clippers she was using. “Here.” She set the wax in the area between us, in easy reach of us both.

“Thanks,” I said, gently dabbing my cloth in the wax, getting enough to start the coat. I gently rubbed it on, discreetly watching Rowan do the same, with much more confidence. I also gave the bristles a quick trim, hearing Hooch mention that the centre ones needed to be the longest in the tail. 

“That looks much better,” I murmured to myself, setting the clippers down.

Hooch clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright, finish up everyone! A nice coat of polish to finish off, then follow me!” She called out, and the scramble ensued. One neat, even layer of polish later, we followed Madam Hooch back to the spot where class started.

“It’s time to practice summoning your broom,” she started, as soon as we re-assembled ourselves into rows, brooms on the ground. “Step up like last time, hold out your right hand over your broom, and say ‘Up!’”

There was a flurry of movement and noise as the class did so.

“Up!” I said firmly, holding out my right hand over the now waxed and polished broom. It just lay there, as if it didn’t hear me at all. 

“Up.” I said, more firmly, willing this to work. No luck. I took a breath, and looked around. Penny’s rolled around, as she attempted to coax it up. 

“Up!” It moved a little, but at least it was something. Brooms bobbed with varying levels of success, with Merula’s either rolling on the ground or getting halfway to her hand. Ben had a few good tries, each time getting a little higher, despite the quaver in his voice.

Rowan was even closer, it hovering just below her hand, as class neared the end.

“ _Up_.” I tried again. Closer this time. Fifth time was, again, the charm, though I wasn’t sure keeping it from whacking me in the face counted as successfully summoning it. Hooch looked pleased, though, so figure it did. 

Class ended after a few more attempts, and we gathered our bags to head to our last class of the day.

Transfiguration was more attempts to change a match into a needle, and with a little more instruction given. Both me and Rowan managed to get further in the transfiguration as well, despite the exhaustion after flying class.

Classes over with for the day, both me and Rowan headed up to Gryffindor tower, and changed into more comfortable clothes, before hurrying down to the training grounds.

“Why do you think Angelica wants us to meet her at the Training Grounds?” Rowan asked, as we approached the training grounds, passing the students leaving flying class.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if Merula somehow got us kicked out of Gryffindor.” I shrugged. “But I don’t quite think that’s quite it.”

We entered the training area, and stopped alongside the castle wall. Rowan looked nervous. A few minutes passed, before Rowan asked, “Do you want to talk about what Merula said about your brother?”

I scowled. Just _thinking_ about what she’d said left me in a bad mood. “No, not really.” I shook my head, and started anyways. “I mean, you know the story from the _Daily Prophet_ …” Rowan nodded, leaning against the castle wall as well.

“My brother was _obsessed_ with the idea of the Cursed Vaults containing some mysterious treasure, hidden at Hogwarts.” I shook my head. This was hard enough to talk about without going into more detail. “But no one believed him, not even our parents. He broke all kinds of rules, and put plenty of people in danger while trying to prove that he was right. 

“But Merula was lying about him being involved with You-Know-Who. The only thing she got right about him was him being missing. After he got expelled, he ran away from home, and he hasn’t been seen since.” I paused. “I’m sorry, there’s quite a bit more to it, but I’d really rather _not_ even think about any of it right now.”

Rowan, at least, looked understanding, despite the deluge of information I dropped.

“I understand, Ellie,” she said, hand on my arm. “You’ll tell me everything, when you’re ready.”

I nodded, a little teary. “Y’don’t think I’m completely mad?”

“I don’t think you’re mad, Ellie,” she smiled. “I think you’re brilliant, and I’m glad you’re my friend.” I gave a slightly watery chuckle.

“Thanks, Rowan,” I replied, wiping the few escaped tears. “I have a feeling Merula’s going to keep attacking us until we do _something_ to stop her.” The sound of approaching footsteps caught my attention. 

“And that’s exactly why I invited both you and Rowan.” Angelica said, coming to a stop in front of us.

I gulped. “You’ve heard what happened?” I asked, full well knowing the answer. Jacob had mentioned several times the speed of the gossip circuit around Hogwarts, and that the prefects were some of the most connected students in the school.

“Word travels fast around Hogwarts,” Angelica agreed. “I also wouldn’t be doing my job as one of Gryffindor’s prefects if I didn’t help teach you to defend yourselves. So I’m going to teach you how to duel.” She announced, confidently.

Me and Rowan exchanged glances.

“But neither of us know any duelling spells…” I said, gesturing between me and Rowan. Angelica seemed to contemplate that for a minute, before her expression shifted.

“Luckily for you, each house keeps a secret duelling book somewhere in the Artefacts room. It’ll teach you various spells, potions, and corresponding techniques to use in duelling.” She gave pause. “Then meet me again on Saturday afternoon, after you’ve learned a duelling spell and I’ll teach you everything else you need to know. Might be your only chance against Merula.”

She looked far more confident than either of us felt.

We parted ways at the Grand Staircase, with Angelica heading back to Gryffindor tower, after pointing us in the rough direction of the Artefacts room.

Thankfully, we found it, tucked down a side corridor.

It was certainly an interesting sort of storage area. There were scrolls of various sizes, a chalkboard with some unrecognizable topic on it, and even a few skulls lurking on the bookshelf. I shuddered.

“Woah,” Rowan breathed, stepping inside as well. “I read that they say untold treasures lie within the Artefacts room…” There was a sort of revered awe in her voice. I just wrinkled my nose, catching a whiff of ... _something_ putrid, as one of the out-of-sight artefacts somewhere in the room shifted. 

“Along with untold odours,” I muttered. “Let’s hurry up and find Gryffindor’s duelling book…” I said louder. There was something else about this room that was leaving me unsettled, and I didn’t know what it was.

Well, besides the skulls on the bookshelf.

“I’ll fight the urge to catalogue every single amazing thing in this room,” Rowan added. “I’ll probably _fail_ …” She gave a wry smile. “But at least I’m good at multitasking!”

“Let’s get started, yeah?” I said, and Rowan nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll take the bookcase, and you can start searching and sorting the cabinets.”

The creak of a cabinet door answered me, as Rowan started her search.

It was quiet, as we both searched. There were plenty of interesting books, even ones embossed with badgers and ravens. Those would be Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw’s duelling books, or maybe even journals of some kind.

But no lions indicating Gryffindor’s duelling book.

“ _Ellie…_ ” a voice suddenly whispered through my mind, and I froze.


End file.
